The Syndicates: A Dark Mafia Romance Collection

by Raven Scott

  “I’ll have to think about it more.” Natasha raised her hand to signal the waitress, and I relaxed a little as Valerie closed her warm, fleshy thighs around my fingers. “So, what are your companies all about, anyway, Carlyle?”

  “We operate in a few areas— shipping, government contracts on production, and physical security. But for the most part, it’s really, really boring.” Valerie’s skin was so smooth, and I took my hand off her before it went places that weren’t appropriate. “Being the boss means I don’t get called in unless there’s an emergency, basically, and there’s never anything happening because my employees aren’t idiots.”

  “You said you owned a construction firm. You just really get around, don’t you?” The conversation stalled a second as Natasha took it upon herself to order a bottle of wine, and I spent that whole moment staring at Valerie like a creep. She didn’t look away, and she grabbed my hand under the table to press my palm firmly against her upper thigh. Her dress rose up, and my lip twitched in a snarl as hunger clawed at my throat. The question hung thick in the air between us, charged with electricity, and its double meaning wasn’t lost to me.

  11

  Valerie

  The wine, the amazing food, the general atmosphere all swooned in my head, and I leaned heavily against Carlyle as we three left the restaurant. His hard, warm body strained taut, and the bulge in his pants fit perfectly against my ass. Thick ropes of muscle played against my back, and I closed my eyes to savor the throbbing ache between my legs.

  “You’re not going to stop, are you?” There was absolutely no way in Hell that Carlyle missed any hints I dropped— subtle or not-so-subtle— and I shook my head. His grumble rolled down the back of my neck, and a shiver lodged between my shoulder blades before he firmly gripped my biceps and stepped back. Disappointment puffed out my lips, and goosebumps blanketed my skin from the loss of his heat.

  Turning me around, Carlyle examined me under tightly knit brows, and the alcohol and food in me made him glow in the blurred string lights hanging above us. I wasn’t drunk by any means, but that was the best wine I’d ever have the ability to drink, and the best food I’d ever put in my mouth. I didn’t try to not let it affect me.

  His face got closer, and my breath hitched before Carlyle brushed his soft lips against my cheek. Pleasantness skittered across my face and down my jaw, but he tightened his grip on me before I could really process anything.

  “Goodnight, Valerie.” Mumbling gravelly in my ears, his tone twisted the knots in my core, and I bit down on my bottom lip as his teased my earlobe. “I’ll see you on Saturday.”

  “As much as I appreciate you being a gentleman, I really don’t appreciate it.” Somehow, I managed to snatch his tie, and Carlyle frowned as I tugged insistently. “Do you really think I’m not a slut enough to screw around in the back seat?”

  “I didn’t think you would when I brought your sister on a date, and you just tagged along, trying to shove my hand up your skirt all night.” Carlyle didn’t sound judgmental. In fact, he sounded kinda pleased at my efforts, but his frown didn’t lighten under the dense crease between his brows. Scrunching up my face in distaste, I leaned back and let go of his tie to huff softly. “I’m sure Natasha will come down with something and be unavailable on Saturday, Valerie.”

  “Of course, she won’t be available.” His lips twitched up at my confirmation, and he cupped the side of my face to rub my cheek with his thumb. The callouses on his palm told me he wasn’t nearly as lazy as he tried to make himself out to be, and my eyelids fluttered closed.

  “I’ll see you Saturday . . . every single centimeter of you.” I couldn’t exactly fight that, and I nodded grumpily as Carlyle smiled a genuine smile. Gesturing me to the waiting Lyft, he popped open the door for me, and reluctance stiffened my knees. “For the record, I didn’t think you were a slut at all, Valerie.”

  “Coffee’s not gonna help you, Val.” Snapping me from my reverie, Natasha shot me a sultry grin, and heat slithered up my neck as we waited for our brews. “Do you know what kind of date you’re going on yet?”

  “Hopefully, the hot and sweaty kind.” My grumble earned me a snort of a laugh, and I crossed my arms over my chest to stop my nipples from poking through my shirt. “Jesus, whoever would’ve thought it’d be this difficult?”

  “Personally, I think it’s a good thing he doesn’t wanna jump your bones at the first opportunity. I also think it was really cool how he rented the whole damn restaurant just for us.” Those points, I couldn’t argue with, and Natasha smiled wider. “I wonder if he has a brother.”

  “If he does, he probably doesn’t stack up. Carlyle’s, like, perfect. I can’t help but think there’s got to be something really deal-break-ery about him somewhere.” Last night, after I had time to stew on it, I was actually kinda pissed that Carlyle didn’t want to fool around in the back seat of his car. I thought I looked great, and he did, too, judging by the size of the bulge in his dress pants. Sighing irritatingly, I shook my head just as our cups were set down, and I grabbed mine a little sharper than usual. “Maybe he’s got a diaper fetish or something. It’s just too good to be true.”

  “You should ask him next time you see him.” Horror clung to my ribs and splattered on my face, and Natasha laughed as she threw back her head. Weaving past the tables to the door, I emerged into the cool morning air and let it suck the heat from my cheeks. “No, for real, though, I’ve been thinking about last night, and . . . what if I asked him to buy out the firm we work at?”

  “Why the Hell would he do that?” Popping the top of my black, sweetened coffee, I blew on it as my sister shot me a snotty look.

  “What do I have to lose if he says ‘no’? It’s an opportunity to not work in a cyber sweatshop, Valerie. Plus, he can fire Paul’s disgusting ass, and maybe we can even grow with a boss that actually cares about our opinions. Website design is fine and all, but us employees do want to branch out into other stuff.” Rolling my eyes at the mention of our supervisor, I took a sip of my coffee to hide my frown. Natasha had a point, and she sucked her cold brew up through a straw as we started walking down the sidewalk. “Besides, if he says ‘no,’ no one will ever be the wiser. I mean, Carlyle could’ve contacted anyone, but he asked you, Val. I don’t think it’s all that inappropriate to see what we can get out of this offer. It’s just business.”

  “Wow, okay. You can do the business, then. I don’t want any part of it. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m gonna sleep with him, and that stuff doesn’t mix well.” Even as I spoke, I couldn’t help but think Carlyle wasn’t the kind of guy to do anything extravagant at the behest of someone else. Sure, he rented that restaurant out, showed us a great time, and flirted with me a lot, but the initial conversation with Natasha . . .

  He didn’t make sure that place was empty just to have some alone time.

  “Cool, because I’m gonna ask him.” That declaration seemed to end the conversation, and I paused my strides to put the top back on my coffee cup. “Today’s Friday, you know. What bullshit excuse do you think Paul’s gonna come up with to keep us late?”

  “Whatever it is, I’m not staying late. We don’t even get paid overtime.” Our office was smack in the middle of downtown, and only a block or two from the coffee shop. Rounding the corner, I could see the building poking out from the skyline, and I ran my hand through my hair absently as dread built in my gut. “Every day, I hate this job more and more.”

  “If I could do anything, I think I’d make romance choice games.” My brows rose at that, and I glanced at my sister as she shrugged. “I think it’d be fun. I never really thought about doing anything differently, but if I ask Carlyle and he says ‘yeah,’ then that’s what I would do. Plus, there’s a lot of opportunity with app development, and I know some of the other guys want to branch into that.”

  “I guess so.” Taking a warming sip from my cup, I opened my mouth again only to get cut off by a shrill ping, and I dug my phone out of my purse. The
ringtone started to blare, and a frown dragged down my lips when I saw it was my mom’s number. “It’s Mom. What do I do? If I ignore it, she’ll keep calling.”

  “So answer it and tell her to fuck off.” Taking my brew from me, Natasha’s expression soured, and I swiped the green button on the screen to hold the phone to my ear.

  “What do you want, Mom? I’m not giving you money, so don’t even ask.” The line crackled harshly, and impatience simmered in my blood as I rocked back on my heels. “Hello? I’m blocking your number.”

  “I wouldn’t hang up just yet, darlin’.” A deep, malicious voice ripped open my eardrum, and I tensed as the blood drained from my face. “Mom here ain’t askin’ for money anymore. She owes me, so I figure why not just skip the middleman and call you myself?”

  “Who are you?” My voice trembled, but from fear or anger, I couldn’t tell, yet. Maybe I was just shocked. Shocked by what? My mom owing some nasty loan shark?

  “Name’s Sander. I’m sure I’ll be seeing your fine-ass self soon so we can discuss the terms of repayment.” Scoffing loudly, I decided on being angry, and I tightened my grip on my phone as my anger spread through my furiously beating heart.

  “You’re fucked if you think I’m gonna repay Mom’s debt.” Natasha gasped in surprise, dropping both our drinks, and I winced as scalding hot coffee splattered my legs. “Fuck you. Don’t bother me anymore.”

  I hung up, flipping my phone over to take out the battery and SIM card and smashing it all on the ground. Red seeped into my vision, and I panted with the force I used to smash my heel into the concrete.

  12

  Carlyle

  “You look wonderful, Illya.” And she did, with her hair and eyebrows dyed dirty blonde, her makeup done to elongate her face. Illya was almost unrecognizable. She smiled happily, and I rolled my head back to frown at the golden hue high above. “Don’t worry about anything. Just get to that brat, get her drugged, and get her out. I have the utmost faith in you and also in myself for distractive shock value.”

  “You really hate this chick, don’t you, Carlyle?” Nodding curtly, I sneered at the mere thought of how much I despised women like Isabel. “How long have you been planning this?”

  “Since her father offered to sell her to me about two years ago.” Tonight was the night. I couldn’t even enjoy signing papers with my father because of this bitch. Bringing my cigarette to my lips, I took a huge, toxic, relaxing breath and held it as Illya rocked back on her heels. When I’d ordered someone to do all the shopping for her, I’d taken her chest into account, and I was surprised at how good she looked. The ocean blue color brought out the fake blue of her eyes, rimmed in charcoal, and I exhaled slowly.

  It was about time to hit the road. Those stupid Italians had decided not to get together in the city, which made it easier for me. Admittedly, not all of them were stupid, but the old man was senile, and his daughter was just delusional.

  I liked the son, though. He and I had done business before, although he liked getting dirty.

  “I guess we should go do this. You’ll get there first with Theo. Wait until I arrive to do anything, though. Everyone will be falling over me, but Isabel will try to be coy and wait.” Illya nodded, her up-do kissing her shoulders, and I flicked my cigarette to crush the butt under my shoe. Catching her gaze, I reached to grab her chin, but she didn’t flinch. “Don’t fuck this up.”

  “Don’t underestimate me.” Smirking slightly, I rubbed her chin with my thumb before letting go, and Illya turned to saunter towards the car. I watched her go with a little swish in her hips and wondered how the fuck anyone could ever agree to this scheme. She was a special breed, rare and invaluable, and I was lucky to have her on my side.

  But this test would prove whether or not that lucky would pay off. Whether she succeeded or not was up to her, and if she didn’t . . . I may consider letting her and Theo run off together. At the very least, it was poetic.

  “Is something bothering you, boss?” Leaning on my car, Carl cast me a cautious, curious glance, and I rubbed my jaw absently. My mind switched from one woman to another, and my gaze trailed down to the cell phone in his hand.

  “It’s stupid, but Valerie doesn’t usually take so long to text me back.” His brows rose in surprise, and I scratched the back of my neck as discomfort lodged in my throat. “I don’t know if it’s because I sent her home last night or not. She wasn’t mad, exactly, but she did pout a lot.”

  “Uh . . . yeah . . . you know, I can only speak from experience, but if my girl gets pissed at me, she never shuts the fuck up. Maybe she dropped her phone in the toilet or something. Theo said they got pretty hammered.” I grunted in acknowledgment, and Carl flopped his head back as he slipped his phone into his jacket pocket. “We got together in high school, so, over time, we learned each other’s quirks. The dinner went well, right? So, she could just be talking with her sister and stuff and not wanting to be distracted. That’s why my girl and I ignore each other when we’re at work. Otherwise, we’d never get shit done.”

  “Maybe.” I always thought the worst, but Valerie wasn’t involved in my life enough to warrant it. Hopefully, it was something as mundane as Carl explained. “You used to drag race before I hired you, Carl. What did your girlfriend think of that?”

  “She thought my reckless stupidity was a turn on. I don’t know why. I mean, we’ve been together for going on five years, and I still haven’t figured out why she puts up with my bullshit. I love her, and I would die without her, but she confuses the shit out of me.” Carl shot me a boyish smirk, and I frowned under furrowed brows. “And by ‘die,’ I mean I’d slowly starve to death because she’s the one with all the takeout numbers, and I can’t cook for shit.”

  “Clearly, she holds all the cards.” Sauntering towards the car, I shook my head at Carl’s affirmative noise, and I opened the back passenger door to slide in. My mind churned with the possibilities, and my driver smoothly pulled out of the empty lot in which we sat. For once, he needed to drive the speed limit, so Illya got there a good bit of time before us, and I pulled my phone out of my jacket to check my notifications.

  If Valerie didn’t text me back by tomorrow, I’d just have to assume our date was off for some reason I’d never know.

  Sifting through my contacts, I tapped the one I probably hated the most, and my teeth ached as ringing trilled through the line.

  “Lucky Lady Massage Parlor. Mandy speaking. How may I help you?”

  “Yes, I need to schedule an appointment with the owner, please.” I got put on hold, and my knee bounced as agitation tightened my muscles. Memories played in my mind’s eye of the last time I’d had to do business with this bitch, and I clenched and released my jaw sharply. Renting Marcella just to blow her brains out because she tried to use them was going to bite me in the ass now.

  “Esmarissa.” She clicked her tongue ring against her teeth, and the sound grated my ears as I cleared my throat roughly. “Oh, boy. I can’t wait to hear this. Carlyle, you fucking killed one of my girls, and now you’re calling me for another one?”

  “I did you a favor, and no, I’m not calling you for another one. I want to ask—”

  “For my forgiveness!” Cutting me off, Esmarissa scoffed loudly, and I rolled my eyes as I took a breath through flared lungs.

  “No. I deal with your bitchy ass because it’s easier than shutting you down. Don’t forget that Wren Lockhart worked for me, Esmarissa. I’ll fucking kill every one of your girls if the mood fucking takes me.” Finally, she shut the fuck up and let me talk, and I exhaled a calming breath as I sat up a little. “Now, as I was saying, I want to ask when your next trip to New York is. We need to talk.”

  “About what?”

  “You know better than to ask that. Tell me when you’re available next— or, better yet, have Mandy tell my secretary, so I don’t have to listen to you until I absolutely have to.” Hanging up on her, I tossed my phone next to me as I lost my battle with my scowl, and I ra
n both my hands through my hair roughly. That fucking snake— I couldn’t fucking stand her, but she took over fair and square. Unless she did something I really couldn’t abide, I was stuck with her. “Fucking cunt.”

  “Why did you call her of all people?” Speaking up from the driver’s seat, Carl caught my gaze in the rearview mirror, and I scowled darkly.

  “Because I’m going to fuck the Italians in the ass, and I need someone to fill the vacuum. Since those greasy, babbling drunks work mostly in girls, I want her expertise on it. Maybe, I can snatch Mandy while I’m at it. That cunt knows her place, at least.” Why did all the women around me suddenly seem so fucking intolerable, and the one I actually enjoyed talking to disappeared?

  13

  Carlyle

  Why are the Italians so damn gaudy? The question had no answer, and I hid my scowl as I stared at the obscene, ugly mansion I’d been invited to. Wide columns swirled with gold inlay, a huge staircase leading up at least a story, and every single light on. It reminded me a lot of that rehab center Mateo liked.

  A disgusting display of wealth. How anyone finds this shit attractive to the eye, I will never know.

  “Is she in?” Glancing at Theo as he materialized next to me, I pursed my lips thinly when he nodded mutely. “I guess we’ll just have to watch The Lion King next weekend.”